


The Last Copy

by Zoa



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, FLUUUUUUFFFF, based on a prompt/au from tumblr, ran into each other at the bookstore and tried to get the last copy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoa/pseuds/Zoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly hurries to a bookstore for the very last copy of a book she wants, but there's someone there ahead of her.</p><p>(Apologies for any mistakes made. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Copy

Molly Hooper watched the clock tick by minute by minute until her lunch break. It was tortuous. Even the intriguing murder-by-DVD case brought in for autopsy didn’t distract her from eyeing the clock on the morgue wall (well, it did for a little while). Once those hands hit noon she was out of there. Her favorite author had just published a new book on ancient pathology, one that had been in the works for years, and there was no way she was going to wait any long than she had to for a copy. Besides that, a friend had told her the book shops around town were quickly running out of the editions. She had called around that morning and found only one bookshop in London that still had copies. Time was not on Molly’s side.

Finally that clock wound to 12 noon and she virtually sprinted toward the locker room, grabbed her things, and hurried out the door of St. Bart’s. She barely even gave a nod to her shift replacement, a circumstance she felt guilty over later. Barry was a nice guy. She hailed a cab and gave the driver directions to the bookstore. An agonizing fifteen minutes later she was rushing into the bookstore’s ancients section.

There it was. The last copy available. She could just feel it on her fingertips...

It was gone. Snatched up before her eyes. Molly slowly looked up to see who had taken her prize, ready to take it back, and was met with the most beautiful – and very familiar – pair of eyes she’d ever seen.

“Sherlock!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down at the coveted book in his hands and back at her. “Buying a book.” He said simply, which irritated her. As if that book was any old hard copy.

“Yes, well, that’s nice. But, um,” she cleared her throat and her eyes flew between his and the book. “ _That_ book is, well, it’s one I’ve wanted for a long time, you see, and since you’re not a pathologist...” She smiled in what she hoped was a charming way.

“Don’t flirt, Molly. You’re not very good at it.”

Molly flushed angrily and tried to grab the book out of his hands but he only lifted it out of her reach. She cursed herself for being so short and him for being so tall.

“Sherlock. I didn’t come here to be insulted by you. I can go to work for that. I came here to buy that book. A book you know I’ve wanted for months because I’ve talked about it. So unless you are actually intending to buy it, I would like to have it.” She crossed her arms and tilted her nose up, her jaw set stubbornly.

Sherlock smirked and leaned down slightly to meet her eyes, slowly lowering the book. “But I am buying it.”

Molly took a deep breath and with one quick movement managed to snatch the book from Sherlock’s clutches.

“Oh, looks like I have the last copy,” she said sweetly. “Sorry, but you’ll have to wait until they get a new shipment in.” She turned on her heels and started for the register but was stopped short by a hand on her arm.

“Molly. I told you I was buying the book,” Sherlock reached for it but Molly put her arm behind her back and shook her head.

“No. I know I’m being really petty for this, but I want this book.” She stepped back as he took a step forward but bumped into the bookcase and couldn’t move any further, which meant that she was trapped and barely an inch separated her from Sherlock. She swallowed and felt her stomach flip nervously. He was trying to use her attraction and feelings for him against her. It wasn’t going to work this time.

“Molly Hooper,” he spoke sternly. “Let me have the book.”

“No,” she held the book more tightly and pressed back into the bookcase as far as possible, leaving no room for the book to move unless she released it.

“Molly,” he spoke softly and one of his hands was suddenly slowly trailing down the arm she had behind her. Goosebumps rose up on her skin and she had to remind herself to breathe when his arm somehow wrapped around her, his hand resting over hers on the book. “Let me have the book.”

“No,” she whispered. He frowned in frustration.

“You’re not being very cooperative, Dr. Hooper.” He said.

She smiled. “No, I’m not.”

Sherlock smiled back and used her slight distraction to latch his hand more firmly onto the book and a tug-of-war began behind her back.

“Please let me have the book.”

“No.”

“Molly, we can’t do this all afternoon.”

“I’m not letting go, Sherlock. You’re big ego can just take a hit today because you’re not going to be able to convince or fake-flirt with me into giving you this book.”

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side – the perfect angle to kiss her, she noticed, and almost stopped breathing.

“So you’re determined not to let me buy the book.”

“Yes.” She stated.

“And I won’t get it out of your hands.”

 “No.”

“Are you sure?” His face was even closer and she couldn’t avoid looking at him.

“Yes.” She said hesitantly.

“Then what’s this?” he grinned and pulled back. The book was now back in his free hand, shining in the fluorescent lighting of the bookshop.

Molly’s mouth dropped open and she grasped for it with her free hand, but he shook his head and pulled her closer, their arms still locked behind her back.

“How did you do that?” she growled. “Give it back!”

“Nope.” He said, popping the p. “I’m buying the book.” He let go and swung her around. When she turned to follow him he was already at the counter and buying the book. She stomped up to him and was just about to let him know exactly what she thought of him when he suddenly placed the book in her hands.

“What’s this?” she asked, befuddled.

“The book you’ve been talking about for months.” He replied. “I was going to buy it for your birthday, but since you seem so impatient for it I’ll just give it to you now.”

Molly stared at the copy and then turned her head back up to Sherlock and looked at him unblinking. She realized he had got a first-hand view of how he looked when buffering.

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Thank you, Sherlock. I-I’m sorry for how I acted just now.”

“It’s quite alright. Under the circumstances I can understand your reticence in allowing me to buy the book.” He bobbed his head, his curls bouncing across his forehead. Molly smiled.

“So, this is really my birthday present from you?”

“Yes,” he nodded again.

“Then that means you actually listen when I talk in the morgue?”

“Yes.” They were now standing outside the shop together. “That surprises you.”

She blushed and looked down. “I just didn’t think you cared to listen, much less buy me a birthday present.” His silence made her look back up. His expression read as a little sad, but not surprised.

“You’re right. I don’t really care with most people. But you... you and John. You’re not most people.” He explained. “I listen to you and I don’t delete what you say. That’s what I wanted to show you by buying the book for you.”

Molly wasn’t sure what it was that prompted her to do what she did, whether it was the sincerity of his words, his expression, or a combination of both, but she reached forward and grabbed the lapels of his Belstaff coat to bring him down to her and kissed him. At first she thought she had made the biggest mistake of her life and was about to release him when his hands came down on her waist and he pulled her closer.

Then it was the most passionate kiss she’d ever experienced. When they finally pulled apart to breathe, they smiled at each other.

“Coffee?” Sherlock suggested.

“I would love some,” Molly replied.


End file.
